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Cheyenne Jun 10
I feel Hollow.
Barren.
Empty.

That hollowness erodes my body,
leaving a trail of decay.
Cracks crawl through my brittle bones,
shattering my skull,
fragmenting my thoughts.

A carmine-colored river floods into my caving lungs,
before dragging itself up my throat.
The metallic taste slowly overwhelms my mouth,
and seeps through my gapped teeth.
My glass smile falls and shatters.

Terror grips what was once my voice,
holding sound captive-
my call for help erased by despair.
Only strangled sobs exist.
I'm left choking on my own life force.

Each sob collects upon my face;
a veil of tears cover my broken visage.
Shrouding me from prying eyes that encompass judgemental gazes.

Without even seeing,
their stares spear my soul and blacken my heart.
The forgotten, grayed ash
smothers out all that remains.

My rotted husk: a void, a dismal skeleton.
A vast emptiness that nothing can fill.

Broken.
Decayed.
Hollow.

It's what I am.
I'm reposting because I just won 7th place in a state contest with this poem. Any thoughts on it? Or advice to improve?
Bri Jun 9
life is a tree-
it grows,
grows,
grows,
but then it falls
or breaks
or splinters into a million pieces
those million pieces are salvageable,
sometimes.
when they aren’t they rot,
rot,
rot
a rock hits the tree
and the bark falls away,
leaving the tree bare and unprotected
the weather and the world fight to pull it down
the tree stands tall,
sometimes.
when it doesn’t it will rot,
rot,
rot
broken and battered-
splintered
Maryann I Jun 9
slick-mouth sinner    
          suckled on static  
          clinging to cracked mirrors 

          where nothing blinks back

          greased in grief,
          I spit  
          I spit    
          I spit      

          blood-milk and bile,         
          kiss of iron rot,    
          gums grinning maggots,
          tongue like a tirefire  

          I wear the ugly      
          like skin     
          like home‎.
The kitchen smells like a secret I forgot to bury.
A peach gone soft, skin splitting like a bad promise.
The fruit flies know something I don’t;
they’re the last priests of a dying faith,
and they’re waiting for me to leak.

I tell myself I’m healing,
but last night I dreamt I had to eat your heart to survive.
It tasted like burnt sugar and nail polish remover.
I woke up gasping,
your name soldered to the roof of my mouth
like a curse I didn’t mean to cast.

I call it the trick of wanting:
how I keep looking for your fingerprints in places you never touched,
how I flinch when someone says my name in the dark,
how I let the mirror watch me shatter
and pretend I’m a stained glass window.

Here’s the part I shouldn’t post:
I liked it when you lied to me.
I liked it when you said this isn’t about love
and I let you mean it’s about power.

The fruit flies keep coming.
I pretend they’re a sign from God.
I pretend they’re angels. Or demons.
Never both.
I pretend they’re a reminder that sweetness
is just another word for rot.
I pretend the buzzing is the sound of my name-
fermenting in your guts,
putrefying in your chest,
decomposing in your memory like abandoned fruit.

I know I shouldn’t write this.
But I do.
Because I want you to see it.
Because I want you to flinch.

Because I want you to know:
I am the girl who would eat your heart if I could.
I would peel it open with my teeth,
lick the blood off my lips,
smile like a god in a red dress,
and call it love.

And you’d believe me.
neth jones May 30
the rotting process                  
proof of life  dampens the air
with pine-like fragrance
transfusional breath confirms
      i'm one with the earth
29/05/25 / early version 21/05/25 :the rotting process/proof of life  dampens the air/with such fragrance/i'm given morning fusion/man confirmed part of nature
Cheyenne Apr 25
I feel Hollow.
Barren.
Empty.

That hollowness erodes my body,
leaving a trail of decay.
Cracks crawl through my brittle bones,
shattering my skull,
fragmenting my thoughts.

A carmine-colored river floods into my caving lungs,
before dragging itself up my throat.
The metallic taste slowly overwhelms my mouth,
and seeps through my gapped teeth.
My glass smile falls and shatters.

Terror grips what was once my voice,
holding sound captive-
my call for help erased by despair.
Only strangled sobs exist.
I'm left choking on my own life force.

Each sob collects upon my face;
a veil of tears cover my broken visage.
Shrouding me from prying eyes that encompass judgemental gazes.

Without even seeing,
their stares spear my soul and blacken my heart.
The forgotten, grayed ash
smothers out all that remains.

My rotted husk: a void, a dismal skeleton.
A vast emptiness that nothing can fill.

Broken.
Decayed.
Hollow.

It's what I am.
neth jones May 30
the rotting proves Living
its fragrance  dampens the air
a good morning
20/05/25 version 2.good morning proof of life/the rotting  its fragrance/dampens the air 3. rotting proves living/the fragrance dampens the air/good morning fusion 4. the rotting process /fragrance  dampens the morning air/living fusion
Sam S May 22
Part II

(The Spell’s Source)

The witch spoke a name, dark and sweet,
and bees forgot the flowers’ beat.
Their buzzing ceased, a hollow sound,
a kingdom lost beneath the ground.

In the black forest’s heart, it grows…
a flower no bee remembers.
Its petals drip with twilight’s poison,
a bloom that calls but never knows.

The bees have flown from memory’s edge,
lost to whispers and fading light.
And in this place where darkness reigns,
the forgotten bloom waits in endless night.
Corpses
of
daisies
lie at your feet

Will
you
break
fall to the floor and weep

You thought
when you picked them
that they would make you beautiful

but rot is inescapable
Your anger unaccountable

now all the flowers that you picked are dead
You crumpled them in your shaking fists and said
that you're better off just picking fights instead

Leaving daisies over coffins
never feeling, never stopping
you grew a garden in your soul
full of evanescent magic
but your story ended tragic
now daisies lie in your wake
gone without a trace

corpses
corpses
daisies
daisies
what's left of your heart
has gone completely crazy
said "the world will never change me"
"never take me, or erase me"

but now you cover everything
in the corpses
of daisies
Based off of Wonderland by NEONI and also Daisies by Katy Perry :)
No organization whatsoever, the best kind
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